Hogwarts Reunion
by MrsDraco3211
Summary: The Golden Trio graduated from Hogwarts fifteen years ago.  After the defeat of Voldemort, they went their separate ways to pursue their careers.  When Hermione accepts the position of Transfiguration Professor at her alma mater, she reunites with people
1. Chapter 1  Leaving Home and Going Home

Chapter One – Leaving Home and Going Home

An obnoxious buzzing woke Hermione from a pleasant dream. She slammed a hand onto the alarm clock, crawled out of bed and into the adjacent bathroom. Looking into the mirror above the sink, she started scrutinizing her appearance. Her hair was far too messy and she had bags under her eyes. Her lips were perfectly pouty but pale in comparison to their usual happy pink; she was nervous as hell.

"Get a grip, woman," she started talking to herself. "It's only been fifteen years; things can't be that different there."

She suddenly felt very old. Had it really been fifteen years since she had seen any of her Hogwarts friends? She shrugged it off; she didn't _feel_ that old, and she certainly didn't look that old. In truth, she hadn't changed much since her school days. Her hair was completely wild this morning, like always, but she took more time getting prepared for the day than she did back then. Now, most people would see her with cascading brown curls, rather than the bushy mess it was naturally. Her eyes were still young in appearance. The light and laughter they had held in her past hadn't left them yet, but they were framed by worry lines. Having barely any interaction from people, besides her parents, in the last fifteen years had made her feel lonely and stressed; part of the reason she was so anxious about this new job.

Hermione was going back to Hogwarts, not as a student, but as a Professor. She would be taking over for Professor McGonagall who would be dropping her Transfiguration classes to wear the mantel of full time Headmistress. She couldn't help wondering whose kids she would be teaching, and if she'd run into any old classmates.

She turned away from the mirror and pulled off the long t-shirt she had slept in. 'Time for a hot, relaxing shower,' she thought to herself. She stepped into the shower and let the steaming water wash her nerves away.

Twenty minutes later, she climbed out of the shower, smelling pleasantly of lilacs, and her nerves came thundering back. She stood there, dripping onto the bathroom floor, slightly ashamed that she would be so nervous. Shivering slightly in the cool air, she grabbed a fluffy blue towel from the linen closet, and wrapping it around herself, made her way back to her bedroom to dress. Hermione opened her dresser drawer only to remember that she packed all of her clothes in her trunk the previous evening. Rolling her eyes at herself, she went to her trunk and grabbed the deep purple robes she had already planned on wearing. After applying a light layer of makeup, she headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

"This is the part I'll miss the most," she said to herself. Hermione loved her kitchen. All the cupboards and woodwork was a mahogany brown. It created a very warm atmosphere that she never had the chance to share with guests. A small mew from the corner of the kitchen told her she woke up her baby. She walked around the small island in the middle of the floor and picked up what appeared to be a very large Technicolor cotton ball with four legs. Crookshanks had long ago passed away, leaving Hermione devastated, but about four months ago she had fallen in love with this little Turkish Van kitten.

"Hello there, Heidi," she said to the kitten. Heidi did a few circles around Hermione's legs and then disappeared into the living room. "Goodbye, Heidi," she said with a laugh.

Hermione started making her breakfast the magical way; waving her wand to and fro to make her eggs and toast. It was far easier this way than to risk breaking a yolk doing it the muggle way. Once the food was prepared she sat at her small kitchen table, but found herself far too queasy to eat. She sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall above the sink.

"9:34, well…I guess getting there early wouldn't be a terrible thing," she said to herself. She realized that she was starting to talk to herself too often, and made a mental note to attempt to quash the habit.

With a flick of her wand, the uneaten food was magicked away, leaving her plate sparkling. She placed it back into the cupboard and looked around her kitchen.

"I'll be back again next summer," she sighed, and then kicked herself for saying it out loud.

She went back to her bedroom and locomotored her trunk behind her into the living room, where a large fireplace stood waiting for her. She placed her trunk by the fireplace and went in search of Heidi. After finding her wallowing in the shower stall, she threw open her trunk and gently set the kitten inside. She reached up onto the mantel piece for an ornamental vase, withdrawing from inside it a handful of floo powder. She grasped her trunk and backed into her fire place. Hermione threw the powder at her feet and was instantly swallowed by bright green flames.

"Platform 9 ¾!" she spoke clearly, and then was whisked away from her home for the past ten years, and into the train station she knew so well.

She stumbled out of the fireplace and looked at her surroundings. Steam was billowing around the scarlet steam engine. The memories that flooded the scene almost overwhelmed her. She recalled her first acquaintance from the magical world, Neville Longbottom. Neville's toad, Trevor, had gotten lost and they searched the train to find it. If it wasn't for the faithful toad, Hermione never would have met her two best friends for the next seven years, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Although she hadn't contacted anyone from school in fifteen years, Harry and Ron were still very close to her heart. They had been through so much together; the sorcerer's stone, the basilisk and the chamber of secrets, helping Harry's godfather, Sirius Black escape from the wrath of the ministry on the back of a condemned hippogriff, the Triwizard Tournament, the rebirth of Lord Voldemort, the search for the Horcruxes that permitted Voldemort's immortality, and the raging battle that spelled the end for the horrible dark wizard.

She sighed. It had been so long ago… could she really handle going back there?


	2. Chapter 2  The Hogwarts Express

Chapter Two – Hogwarts Express

"'Scuse me ma'am," said a distantly familiar voice. Hermione, startled, turned to her left to address the speaker.

"I was just wonderin' why…" the voice trailed off as the steam cleared to reveal a sandy haired man in a conductor's uniform.

The man looked at her a moment, "Hermione?"

Hermione studied the man for a moment. The sandy colored hair and thick Irish accent… so tantalizingly recognizable… then it hit her.

Hermione squealed girlishly at the sight of a fellow ex-Gryffindor, "Seamus!" she ran and hugged him.

"Wow, Hermione! I 'aven't seen you in about fifteen years! How 'ave you been? What are you doin' here? Why are you so damn early?" he glanced at his watch, "It's only 9:45, an' we don't usually expect people 'til about 10:30." Seamus, having exhausted his oxygen through his rattling, inhaled quickly and flashed Hermione a beaming smile.

"Breathe, Seamus!" she giggled. "I've been okay, and I'm here because I've accepted the post of Transfiguration Professor. Is it a problem that I'm here early?"

"No, no, course not," he replied. "I guess I'm not used to sharing the platform 'til later."

"Ah, well, I'm suffering from 'stage fright' I guess. I was practically pulling my hair out, sitting around at home." She laughed somewhat hysterically.

"Oh, don' worry about that. You weren't the brightest witch of our age for nothing! Besides you look a lot calmer than the new professors last term. They were in a right state; couldn't stop fidgeting!" Hermione fixed Seamus with an unconvincing smile as he laughed heartily at the memory.

"What new professors? What subjects?" Hermione was curious. She hadn't been told that there were new teachers. McGonagall hadn't mentioned who she'd be working with. She had just assumed it would be all the familiar faces. The more she thought about it the more she realized how stupid she was. Of course there had to be new professors. Flitwick alone had to be nearing at least seventy.

"You don't know?" Seamus smiled slyly. "Hmm… well, it's not me place to tell you then." He smiled knowingly. "Anyway, as you can tell from this ridiculous getup I have to wear, I'm the conductor, and I have a few things to double check before people start swarming in. I'll see you 'round, Hermione."

Hermione managed a weak goodbye before he left. What was this? Her nerves seemed to have doubled in intensity. How many new professors were there? She knew they couldn't have replaced the whole staff. Hagrid, at the very least, should still be there. At least some familiar faces should be present.

She realized with a start, that she was still standing in front of the fireplace. She locomotored her trunk behind her and made her way to the train before another floo traveler pummeled her. She found an empty compartment on the train and settled herself in at the window seat. How many more familiar faces was she about to see? She closed her eyes and tried not to feel too overwhelmed. If just being at platform 9 ¾ was having this effect on her, she couldn't help but fear a mental shock when she saw Hogwarts castle.

"My time there was amazing… so why am I so nervous," she pinched herself for saying it out loud. She was sure people would think she was crazy for holding conversations with herself. "Oh well, at least I'm not answering my own questions yet," she thought. She allowed a smile small to play at her lips when she realized she hadn't talked to herself again.

Forty-five minutes later, Hermione was snapped from her reverie by a light tapping on the compartment door. She looked over to see four girls, about thirteen years old, walk into the compartment.

"'Ello, sorry to bother you, we were walking by and saw you alone in here. We wondered whether you were an exchange student or something. You don't look familiar." One girl said. "I thought you looked too old to be a first year though."

Hermione smiled. Being thirty-three years old and out of school for the past fifteen years; this was her kind of compliment.

"You'll have to remind me to give each of you five points to your respective houses once we get to Hogwarts," she said and then giggled at the incredulous looks on their faces.

"You must be the new Transfiguration professor," exclaimed the nearest girl. "My dad told me that McGonagall was finally relinquishing her classes. You look far too young to be a teacher though." The other three girls nodded their agreement.

"Better make it ten points each," Hermione smiled.

Hermione held out her hand to each of the four girls in turn. "I'm Professor Granger, lovely to meet you all." She felt surprisingly less nervous now that she was actually interacting with the students.

"I'm Lily, this is Matilda, Abby, and Robin," Lily said, introducing her friends.

Hermione let her eyes take in their appearances. Lily had very dark red hair, a pale complexion, and bright green eyes…very familiar bright green eyes. Matilda also had familiar features; red hair and freckles all atop slightly pink skin. Abby had a fair skin tone, with pale blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Robin was somewhat the odd one of the quartet. She was shorter and more filled out than the other three, but she had a very kind face topped with light brown hair tied into pigtails.

"So," Hermione asked, "what houses are you girls in?"

"I'm in Ravenclaw," replied Matilda. "Most of my family has been in Gryffindor, so it was kind of surprising when I got sorted. I guess I take after my mum."

"I'm in Gryffindor," said Abby. "I guess that means I take after dad then, eh Matty?"

"Oh, you're sisters!" Hermione gasped.

"Twins actually," Abby stated. "It runs in the family I guess."

Hermione suppressed a smirk. She was starting to get a good idea of whose kids these were.

"Robin and I are both in Gryffindor as well," Lily said. "It's a good thing, too. My dad would have flipped had I ended up in Slytherin."

"I don't think mine would have cared," Robin giggled. "He always told me he should have been sorted into Hufflepuff!"

The four girls giggled.

"Are you going to be our new head of house as well?" Lily asked. "Dad said that the position is open now that McGonagall is purely headmistress."

"_Professor_ McGonagall. Now, how is it that your father knows so much about the goings on at Hogwarts?" Hermione inquired.

"Oh, it's not just my dad," giggled Lily. "All of our fathers work at Hogwarts. Abby and Matty's mum does, too."

Hermione did a double take. "Well, in that case," she laughed. "Who are your parents and what subjects do they teach?" Hermione felt confident that she knew the answers but felt she should let them divulge the facts.

"Well, my dad is famous," Lily blushed.

"Let me guess," Hermione faked a thoughtful look, "Harry Potter?"

"Well, that was quick." Lily giggled.

"You have your father's eyes, Lily," Hermione said gently.

Lily blushed again. Hermione caught something in her eyes that reminded her of someone, she just couldn't place who.

"Well, Dad teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts." Lily declared. "He's been at Hogwarts for a year."

Hermione laughed out loud. So, that was one of the new teachers Seamus had mentioned. In her mind, she could picture Harry, as nervous as she was, fidgeting and running his fingers through his hair; his signature move.

Abby cleared her throat. "Our Dad's name is Ron. He's been in charge of the house Quidditch teams ever since he left Hogwarts… "

"Technically he never really left, just graduated and came right back! Mum says Dad will never call another place home," Matty said.

"Ladies, I could tell you some great stories about your fathers," Hermione chuckled.

"Our Mum's name is Luna. She teaches Charms and is the head of Ravenclaw," Abby continued. "Do you have any great stories about her?"

"Actually, yes, I do," Hermione answered, "but before I go into the dirty details, I would like to know who Robin's father is."

"My Dad's name is Neville. He's been teaching Herbology for the past eight years," Robin answered. Hermione got the distinct impression that Robin was very proud of her father.

Hermione grinned at her, "Well, Herbology was always Neville's best subject!"

She was having a blast. She couldn't have asked for a better quartet to be seated with. It took getting to know her old friends' children to make her realize how much she missed them. 'Why haven't we spoken for so long…?' Hermione asked herself. The girls were looking at her with a barely controlled air of anticipation. If she hadn't busied herself with after-Hogwarts schooling, would her child have made it a quintet? Hermione felt a quake beneath her feet. Looking out the window, she was startled to see the train lurch forward, and then gain speed. 'Oh boy…' she thought. Her nerves were starting to creep back.

"So, tell us some stories!" Lily exclaimed. The other three nodded in agreement.

"Well, Robin, Neville doesn't come into the stories much until our fifth year is that okay?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, of course is it!" Robin said with a smile. "Our families are close; Harry and Ron are like my uncles!"

Smirking, Hermione started her tales. She told them about her, Harry's and Ron's first year adventures with the Sorcerer's Stone; about their second year and the Chamber of Secrets; she left out certain details about third year, but told them about helping Buckbeak the hippogriff escape from the Ministry executioner. She told them about fourth year and the Triwizard Tournament, elaborating on Harry's courage and strength. After detailing the escapade in the Department of Mysteries in their fifth year, she was interrupted:

"Are you telling us, that all of our parents, except Robin's mother, fought Death Eaters when they were only fifteen years old?" Matty asked.

Hermione was startled for a moment. "All of your parents…" she thought for a second, "Are you telling me that Harry married Ginny!?"

"Yup," Lily said simply.

Hermione was astounded. She couldn't believe that she was the only one left out of the loop all these years. She felt loneliness she hadn't let surface in almost fifteen years. How was she going to face them after all this time without being bitter towards them for forgetting about her for all these years? She couldn't even count the amount of owls she'd sent to them, and no reply had ever come.

"We'd better go get into our robes; I can see the lights at Hogsmeade station," Matty said, interrupting Hermione's train of thought.

She looked out the window, and in the distance… she could make out the many towers and turrets of Hogwarts castle.


	3. Chapter 3  The StartofTerm Banquet

Chapter Three – The Start-of-Term Banquet

Looking at the familiar silhouette of the castle, Hermione found it hard to breathe. As the train pulled into Hogsmeade station, the four girls around her stood up and began to gather their belongings. Hermione sat there staring out the window, with a look of ill-disguised terror plastered to her face.

"Professor Granger, are you alright?" Matty asked with a look of concern in her eyes.

Hermione wrenched her eyes from the window, thankful for the distraction.

"I…" Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deeply, "I-I guess its b-been so long; it's just a little overwhelming."

Matty flashed Hermione a warm smile. "I'm sure you'll be fine Professor. You're doing much better than Uncle Harry… I mean Professor Potter," she said with a slight blush, "you at least still have color in your face."

"Thank you, Matty," she returned the young girls reassuring smile, and stood up.

It really did make her feel better to know that Harry was just as nervous when he was in her position. Hermione inwardly smiled; to think that the vanquisher of the Dark Lord was nervous about teaching underage wizards. She had never seen him balk at the many dangers thrown purposefully in his direction, but to hear of him succumbing to nervousness at a situation such as this? The thought filled her with steely resolve, but also with trepidation… if Harry '_the chosen one_' Potter felt anxious about teaching, how, in the name of Merlin, was she to overcome her apprehension? She sighed. "Harry is human just like the rest of us," she thought, "but he wasn't sorted into Gryffindor for nothing!"

Hermione buried her thoughts in the back of her mind as she gathered her things and followed the girls out of the train. It was a crisp, clear night, and the air was charged with an excitement akin to electricity as students piled out of the train. A voice sliced through the poignant evening air and pierced Hermione's heart.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, over here!" A familiar voice bellowed nearby.

Hermione turned around and saw the vast profile that was Hagrid, Care of Magical Creatures professor and gamekeeper for Hogwarts. Her body felt tight and constricted with tension, even her teeth felt on edge; Hermione couldn't contain herself anymore.

She brushed through the crowd of students, making her way toward Hagrid, with tears leaking shamelessly from her honey colored eyes.

"Hello, Hagrid," she said, placing a hand on his massive arm to warn him of a presence.

Hagrid turned around the say hello but the words were caught in his throat. He looked down at Hermione, a questioning look in his eyes. Hermione blushed and looked down at her feet, only to have a large hand gently lift her head back up by her chin. Hagrid eyes were shining with suppressed tears as he threw his massive arms around her and proceeded to crush her ribs.

"Hermione…" he choked back a barking howl, "it's so good ter see ye well."

"It's good to see you, too, Hagrid," Hermione said after being mercifully released.

She looked into Hagrid's face and noted the subtle changes that had taken place throughout the last fifteen years. His wild mane of hair was streaked with gray, and his face looked more worn and aged. He still had kind, black eyes that she remembered so well.

"Miss Granger?" A voice behind them broke apart nostalgia.

Hermione turned to see yet another familiar face. Professor McGonagall, her old Transfiguration professor, and her new coworker. She had changed drastically since Hermione had last seen her. Her hair, once only streaked in a salt and pepper fashion, was now a dramatic, solid grey. McGonagall's eyes still had a spark of wicked cleverness and unflinching authority. The first years congregating around Hagrid looked like they were ready to go home. Two dozen sheet white faces were staring between Hagrid and McGonagall as if they didn't know who would be more frightening; the hawk-like woman, or the colossal man with the untamable hair.

"Hello, Professor," Hermione smiled at her hero. She had always looked up to McGonagall; not just her spell-casting, which was brilliant, but for her steadfast loyalty in people who have proven themselves.

"Hello," the headmistress said, returning the smile, "I'm here to escort you by side-along-apparition into the castle. The anti-apparition enchantments have been lifted momentarily and won't hold for long."

"Okay, I'm ready," she turned back to Hagrid, "Hagrid, would tea this weekend be alright?"

Hagrid gave a great sniff, "O' course, Hermione. Lots fer us ter catch up on."

Hermione hugged him around the middle one last time, said her good byes in a very shaky voice and walked silently away with Professor McGonagall. Her nerves were starting to diminish to be replaced by total numbness. She was fairly certain that she wouldn't remember much tomorrow morning. McGonagall stopped just around the corner from the station. She pointed her wand at Hermione's trunk and it vanished.

"Miss Granger… Professor Granger I mean," she gave a rare smile, "that's going to take some getting used to. Your trunk is waiting for you in your rooms. Now, grab hold of my arm and we'll be off."

Hermione grasped McGonagall's arm with an extremely shaky hand. The older woman surprised her by placing her hand gently on her own trembling one.

"There's no need to be so nervous, you'll be fine. You weren't the brightest witch of your age for nothing," she said gently.

"I've heard that already today, and it's not so much about the teaching as it is about the familiar faces," Hermione replied.

"Yes," she said, "I was hesitant to tell you about the rest of the staff. I was afraid you wouldn't want to join us. They've told me that they hadn't heard from you since you left Hogwarts. If you don't mind me asking, how did you find out?"

"I was fortunate enough to share a compartment with the 'Golden Quartet,'" she answered, "and you were right, I probably would have chickened out."

"Ah, I do quite like those girls. They have so much of their parents in them," she stated, "Professor Potter and Professor Weasley have told me that the three of you haven't spoken in the last fifteen years, while I'd very much like to know why friends such as yourselves drifted apart so abruptly, I believe they should be the first to hear it."

"You're right," She said, and then added silently, "I'll give them a piece of my mind…"

McGonagall looked into Hermione's eyes for a moment, as if searching for something; they turned on the spot and were launched into asphyxiating darkness.

As soon as it started it had passed, and they were standing on a plush Persian carpet in McGonagall's office. Hermione looked around and realized with a flinch, that this was _her_ office now. It was exactly the same as she remembered it from school, but since Professor McGonagall moved into the head's office and quarters, her personal effects had moved as well. Hermione's nerves were still bothering her, but underlying all of the butterflies, she felt a well of excitement; her last five years of training hadn't been for nothing. There was a large oak desk in the middle of the room, surrounded by scarlet red walls and various shelving units. A large window behind the desk probably offered a spectacular view by day, but as it was night, Hermione would have to wait to find out. There were two doors in the room, one opposite the window, the other on the adjoining wall.

"The door straight ahead leads to the rest of the castle, and is password protected," she began. "To set the password, all you must do is state your full name, your mother's maiden name, and then speak the password. The door off to our left leads to your personal rooms. Now, I suggest we make our way to the Great Hall, or we will have missed the sorting!"

Hermione nodded and turned to follow McGonagall out of the room. They made their way through the corridors and down stairways until the sounds of chatter rose to meet them. McGonagall led her through a series of hallways that Hermione didn't recognize, and then they emerged behind the High Table; no one noticed them. A group of terrified first years stood lined up in front of the table. The three-legged stool was resting in front of them, with a patched old wizards hat on top; the sorting hat.

Hermione made her way to the table and took a seat between two professors she didn't know. She thought she'd spare herself this way, and put off the inevitable reunion. The sorting began with the seating of Professor McGonagall. A woman on the far end of the table got up, walked over the first years and explained the process.

"When I call your name, you will come up, sit on the stool, and put the sorting hat on your head," she said in a dreamy sort of voice. "You will then be sorted into your house, and may take a seat at the appropriate table. Now let's begin. Hoxley, Robert!"

And so the sorting began. Hermione recognized Luna being the teacher overseeing the procedure. She really hadn't aged much since Hermione had last seen her. Her light blonde hair was piled high on her head, and she looked much more down to earth; no more radish earrings.

Once the sorting was complete, Luna sat back down at the High Table and McGonagall stood up to make the start-of-term announcements.

"Students should note, that the Forbidden Forest on the grounds is just that; Forbidden. The caretaker, Mr. MacTavish, would like me to remind all of you that magic is not to be used in the corridors between classes, and a list of banned items can be found on his office door, should anyone be interested," she took a breath. "Now, I'd like to introduce our new Transfiguration teacher, Professor Granger."

Hermione's heart was beating a mile a minute as she stood up and gave a weak smile to the tumultuous applause. She chanced a look down the High Table, and noticed two figures turned in her direction; one with shocking red hair, and the other with jet black hair in complete disarray. They were looking at her with a mixed impression of absolute rage and sheer confusion. She offered a half-hearted smile and a shrug and sat back in her seat as the applause died down.

"Now, without further ado, let the feast begin!" McGonagall shouted to the hall.

There was a gasp of awe from the first years throughout the room as the golden plates before them were filled with every tasty thing imaginable; roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, thick slabs of steak, roast, boiled, and mashed potatoes, boats of thick, creamy gravy, vegetables in a multitude of colors, all coating the five tables of the Great Hall.

Hermione ate with gusto as she hadn't eaten anything yet, having decided her nerves wouldn't be grateful for the food that morning. She piled her plate with chicken, potatoes and green beans, and began to eat. "The house elves haven't lost their touch," she thought.

After most people had their fill, the tables cleared and then refilled with desserts of all kinds; treacle puddings, Yorkshire pudding, all kinds of pies, cakes and cookies. Hermione helped herself to a little of everything and was thoroughly enjoying herself.

In the middle of her helping of Dutch Apple pie, she was interrupted from her satisfaction.

"You look like you're enjoying that a little too much, Granger," said a drawling voice from her left, making her drop her fork.

"Not nearly as much as I'd enjoy stabbing you with a random utensil, Malfoy," she replied without turning to face the speaker. His voice was recognizable anywhere. She turned to face him with a look of pure loathing. Surprisingly, he was looking at her with a smile that showed anything but malice. His platinum blonde hair was hanging loose in his eyes in a way that made him look almost… what? Dashing? Hermione blanched. How she didn't recognize him when she came in, she didn't know. "Why did I have to sit here!?" she inwardly cursed herself for her choice of seat.

"Random you say? How much damage could you do with, say, a spoon?" he replied.

"Malfoy, may I ask why you are here, of all places?" Hermione said. "I didn't think Malfoy's found it prudent to work after school. Surely you don't work here?"

"Why, yes, I do as a matter of fact," he said, a flash of menace crossing his bright grey eyes. "I replaced Slughorn last year as potions master."

Before Hermione could retort, McGonagall was out of her seat again to bid everyone goodnight.

"Now, off to bed, pleasant dreams, and _straight _to your dormitory Miss Weasley!" she added.

Hermione was the first one up. She walked at a brisk pace toward the door she came in. No one made a move to stop her. She had gotten all the way to her private quarters when she heard a pair of foot steps walking quickly behind her. She turned, and saw no one. She set her password for her office, and walked in. Before she even had time to sit down to think about the night's events, Harry Potter had materialized into her midst. He had a fire in his eyes that conveyed absolute fury and genuine concern; he chose to approach with fury.

"Where, the bloody hell, have you been?" Harry asked

"Still using that old invisibility cloak I see…" she said in a smile voice.

"Don't change the subject, Hermione, where the bloody hell have you been for the last fifteen years?!" Harry's anger was obviously getting the better of him. "Ron and I sent you an owl a day for five years, we never got one reply; we thought you were dead!"

"Complete rubbish, Harry Potter!" Hermione yelled at Harry. Her bitterness towards this man was starting to break out, and it fueled her to continue arguing. She didn't care anymore. Harry was glaring at her with a look of complete shock. "I haven't got one owl from you, but I sent you and Ron an owl a day for six years! I didn't get one reply! Not one! Now how am I supposed to feel about that?! I'll tell you how I felt, Potter. It felt like you were using me to get through your classes, and since Hogwarts was over you didn't need me anymore! 'Hey Ron, now that we're done with school, we don't need Hermione anymore, let's just pretend she doesn't exist!'" And with those words, she stormed into her bedroom, leaving Harry standing, thunderstruck, in her office.


End file.
